Broken
by elbcw
Summary: 'This must have been a coordinated attack. But was it a targeted attack? They were used to being confronted, but to be taken was unusual. Were they being taken because they were musketeers or because they were Porthos and Aramis' Porthos and Aramis are kidnapped, and d'Artagnan gets trapped trying to free them.
1. Chapter 1

Authors note: This is dedicated to my dog, Wilbur, who was the inspiration for the story. If you can work out how an elderly whippet could inspire the following; I salute you.

Broken

Prologue

If he kept still the pain was manageable. If he kept still he could almost forget how much he hurt. So much of him hurt; his chest, his head, his shin, and his arm. His arm was on fire, pain radiated out from his forearm. Had he been unconscious, was he conscious now? He could not tell. He thought that his eyes were shut, it would probably hurt to try and open them. Keeping still was the best thing. He knew this because he had been told.

'Porthos, you need to keep your arm still…'

A voice next to him had said. He had no problem obeying.

'It's broken…'

That explained a lot.

'Keep still or you will make it worse…'

He knew the voice, he trusted the voice.

'Please listen to me…'

He did, he would have liked to respond but he had been told to keep still, that seemed more important.

'I'm not going to be here for much longer…'

Where were they going?

'Keep your arm still…'

He would. He would do as the voice told him to.

He felt a gentle weight on his wrist, it did not hurt, but felt reassuring. Keeping him grounded. Keeping his arm still. He had been told to keep his arm still.

He did not hear the trusted voice again. He continued to keep still, as he had been told, he did not know how long for.

Other voices he knew, but could not place, were talking now. Voices that he trusted.

Something, somewhere in his subconscious told him he was safe and he did not have to try to stay awake any more. He submitted to the painless call of unconsciousness.

MMMM

Chapter One

'Are you coming?' asked Aramis as he and Porthos walked to the door of the tavern. D'Artagnan indicated that he would catch them up, he was talking to a friend he had spotted across the crowded room.

Aramis nodded and followed Porthos out of the door. They walked slowly along the road towards the garrison, it was a clear calm night. The road was still busy with Parisians. The city never fully came to a standstill, there were always people wandering around. Whores plying their trade and beggars, who never disappeared, littered the sides of the road.

'Please sir,' said a small boy standing at the entrance to an alleyway.

Aramis looked over at the small lad. He was dirty and malnourished. Aramis hated that there was so much poverty and little he could do to help the people. The King just turned a blind eye. It was infuriating. Aramis approached the lad, fishing out a coin to hand to the lad as he did so.

'You are too generous, you know that,' said Porthos as he followed his friend to the alleyways entrance.

'I'm sorry it displeases you,' replied Aramis smiling back at him.

The lad took a few steps back, which was not surprising, with two musketeers approaching. They were fully in the alleyway when Aramis reached out to drop the coin into the lad's hand. He did not get the chance, the coin falling to the ground as several men grabbed him and shoved him hard into the wall of one of the buildings towering over the alleyway. The attack, so sudden and vicious that he had no chance to react. The men were coordinated. Just as Aramis opened his mouth to shout, the only avenue of defence left to him, a gag was used to stifle any cry he could make.

He struggled but was being held firmly by at least three men, his hat falling from his head as they did so. A fourth man had grabbed his arm and pulled it back behind him. Aramis was alarmed when he felt, what he guessed was, a manacle being snapped around his wrist, he tried to prevent his other arm being pulled behind him, but could not. He was soon rendered helpless, with both arms firmly held behind him by the manacles, which painfully pinched at his skin. The last thing he saw before a sack was pulled over his head, depriving him of his sight, was Porthos receiving the same treatment.

MMMM

Porthos was grabbed a fraction of a second after Aramis. He just had time to move forward a step as the first man had grabbed Aramis and pushed him into the wall when three men surrounded him. One swept his foot across Porthos legs and brought the big musketeer down to his knees. Porthos fought back hard, but received a punch to the side of his head which stunned him for a few second. Seconds that the men used to gag him and bind his arms behind his back. As his vision cleared Porthos watched as Aramis struggled against his attackers, they were using manacles to restrain him. Porthos noted that Aramis had also been gagged and that the men were pulling a sack over his head.

With his senses back to normal, after the punch, he began to struggle again, he made as much noise as he could through the gag, stopping only when he felt a gun being pressed into his side. He was hauled up onto his feet, the men holding him still.

One of the men leaned in close to Porthos' ear and said quietly, but firmly, 'be quiet, or I will shoot you in the gut and leave you where you fall…do you want that…do you?'

Porthos kept still, he was breathing hard from his exertions, but he understood the threat. He also understood that he was clearly not as valuable to the men as Aramis was. When the man had spoken to him he had been expecting him to threaten to shoot Aramis if he did not behave. The fact that they were prepared to leave him behind meant they did not need him. He was probably only being taken because he was there. They could not let him go if he were alive, and they probably did not want to leave a dead musketeer behind if they did not have to. Porthos did not want to be a dead musketeer either.

MMMM

D'Artagnan said his goodbyes to his friend and hastened after Aramis and Porthos. He spotted the two walking slowly along the road. Aramis was looking to his left and walking toward an alleyway reaching for something as he did so. D'Artagnan spotted the boy with his hand out retreating into the alleyway.

As his friends disappeared into the alleyway several men followed. A couple peeled themselves from the wall either side of the entrance and others walked with purpose from the road. D'Artagnan did not like the look of that. The men were clearly going to attack Porthos and Aramis. D'Artagnan quickened his pace, Porthos and Aramis were good fighters but against that many men even they would struggle.

As d'Artagnan approached he became aware of muffled shouts. He slowed at the entrance to the alleyway. He peered around the corner just in time to see the group of men bundling his friends away from the main road further down the alleyway. There were two men holding each of his friends who had their arms bound behind their backs. Sacks over their heads prevented them from seeing, they were being forced along by their captors.

Porthos and Aramis had clearly been taken by surprise, even though there were several men, too many to be taken on and win, he knew his friends would not have been captured so easily had they been given any kind of warning. This must have been a coordinated attack. But was it a targeted attack? They were used to being confronted, but to be taken was unusual. Were they being taken because they were musketeers or because they were Porthos and Aramis?

D'Artagnan followed the group along the alleyway, staying as far to the side as he could, keeping to the shadows. If he was going to help his friends he could not risk being caught himself. His best course of action was to follow and when he knew where they had been taken, return to the garrison for reinforcements.

He did not have to follow for long. At the end of the alleyway and across another main road he watched as the men took their captives into a house. The door firmly closed behind them. No one passing had paid much attention. At this time of night people did not interfere in others business.

D'Artagnan approached the house with caution. It was one of several in the road, the door was solid and the windows at the front a little too high for him to see into. He would have to make his way around to the back of the house. He thought about returning to the garrison straight away, but decided to at least ensure he was in the right place first. A narrow alleyway two house along took him to the rear of the building. He quickly made his way along it and towards the rear of the house his friends had been taken into.

There was a window low to the ground near to steps that led down from the rear door of the house. He crouched down and peered in, he could see a short corridor with two doors leading off it.

He was just in time to see one of the men open one of the doors and his friends being taken into the room beyond. The door was closed behind them, a few minutes later the men re-emerged. One was carrying the weapon belt belonging to Porthos, another had Aramis'. He could not see what had happened to his friends but guessed they were in the room.

The door was closed and bolts drawn across, a key also turned in the lock. The kidnappers clearly wanted to keep their victims contained. D'Artagnan watched as the men left the corridor and proceeded up a flight of stairs.

The rear door to the house opened. D'Artagnan pressed himself into the wall, keeping hidden in the shadows. One man stepped out and as each of the other men passed him he handed them money.

'Not a word to anyone. We know where you are.'

The man handing the money out had spoken sternly to each of the other men as they passed. Clearly the hired thugs were no longer needed and had been paid for their work.

Once the last hired thug had passed the man stepped back into the house and closed the door. No one had reappeared in the corridor below the window where d'Artagnan hid. He wondered if he dared try to get in through the window?

He pulled the frame up. It was old and gave into the pressure. He was able to jiggle the frame a bit and loosen it. The window opened quietly. With a last look around d'Artagnan lowered himself down. Landing softly on the floor below. The window fell back into place behind him. The key to the door was hanging from a hook. As he reached up for it thinking that he could just free his friends and they could escape through the window, he heard a noise at the top of the stair.

MMMM


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The stumbling walk had been difficult. He did not know where he was, they had pushed his head down as they walked, probably to hide the fact that he was being held captive. Although Aramis doubted anyone about, at that time of night, would have interfered or bothered to alert anyone to their plight.

He was aware of being taken up a couple of steps and into a house, he could tell as he was walking on floorboards. Then he was forced down a few stairs, his legs uncoordinated on the uneven steps. He was still being held by at least two men. The whole experience was disorientating.

There was a pause and then he was pushed through a door. He was pushed against a wall and held there for a few seconds as his weapons belt was taken from him. He was pulled to the side and could hear a clink of metal. The men let him go. He tried to take a step forward but was prevented. He realised his manacles had been attached to a metal ring on a stone wall at waist height. He could move no further than a few inches forward before his bound arms complained at the strain it put on them.

There were noises to his right but he could not work out what was going on. In his current state, he could do nothing to protect himself. He breathed hard through the suffocating gag. Deprived of his sight, voice and freedom of movement he felt quite vulnerable. He had no idea what had become of Porthos.

He heard a door close, a key in a lock turn and bolts being drawn across. Then a few moments of silence. A brief rustling noise to his right made him aware that he was not alone. He tensed up as he heard footsteps approach him. He pulled away as much as he could, pressing himself into the wall, even though he knew he could not escape.

MMMM

Porthos was pushed against a wall, he could feel the gun pressed into his side again. He stilled, to show his compliance. His weapons were taken from him and the rope that bound his wrists was removed. One by one the hands that were holding him against the wall disappeared. Only the gun remained, he could hear the men retreating from the room. The gun was removed and a few seconds later he could hear a door being closed firmly, a key being turned and bolts drawn across.

He waited a few second unsure if he was alone. He reached up and pulled the sack from his head. The room was dimly lit by a small window high in the wall. He glanced round and saw that he was not alone. Aramis was stood to his left. His arms were still behind his back, Porthos realised he was still restrained. He walked toward him pulling the gag from his mouth as he did so.

Aramis flinched away, pressing himself into the wall, like a trapped animal, his breathing fast, when Porthos put his hand out to remove the sack covering his head. Porthos quickly said, 'it's me, it's OK.'

It took Aramis a few seconds to register that it was Porthos and not one of their attackers, he visibly relaxed and moved away from the wall. Porthos pulled the sack from his friend, who took a few moments to focus, blinking as he did so. He looked confused.

Porthos reached up and started to untie the gag saying, 'I don't know why they untied me and not you.'

Once free of the gag Aramis looked around the small room saying, 'any idea what this is about?'

Porthos shrugged his shoulders and moved to look at the restraints holding his friend. He tugged at the manacles and the ring on the wall. His friend's wrists were already marked from the sharp metal. Aramis could not move from where he was chained to the wall, there was no slack on the chain, he would not even be able to sit on the floor.

'You aren't going anywhere,' he said with concern.

'Can you get the door open?' asked Aramis hopefully.

Porthos moved to the door and tried the handle, they both knew it was locked having heard the key turn. Now they knew it was a solid, heavy door; not easily broken. Porthos turned back to Aramis and unnecessarily shook his head. There was no way out. Porthos wondered how long they would have to wait for their captors to return. He looked about the room and spotted a table and chair in the far corner. A jug and a cup sat on the table. The jug contained water.

'Good of them to leave us something to drink,' said Aramis.

'Yes, but that does imply we might have a bit of a wait until they come back,' replied Porthos.

Porthos was looking at the table and then back at Aramis, he had an idea. He moved the jug and the cup and put them on the chair. He started dragging the table toward Aramis.

Aramis looked confused and asked, 'what are you doing?'

'Sorting out something for you to sit on. We don't know how long we will be here and you can't stand like that for hours.'

He manoeuvred the table to the side of Aramis who smiled, 'at least one of us is thinking ahead.'

Aramis managed to sit on the edge of the table without too much difficulty. He was obviously not very comfortable with his arms pinned behind him, but at least now he could sit. Porthos retrieved the water and hopped up onto the table next to Aramis. He poured water into the cup.

'Want some?'

Aramis looked at him, 'I would, but you will have to help me.'

Porthos smirked, 'I know.'

He held the cup to Aramis' lips whilst the bound musketeer sipped the liquid.

'Thank you,' said Aramis with a sigh.

'So, what did you do?' asked Porthos.

Aramis looked at Porthos puzzled. Then realised what he meant, saying, 'I do not believe I have upset any husbands lately.'

Porthos smiled for a few moments, then said seriously, 'I think they were only after you.'

Aramis did not respond, clearly trying to think of a reason why.

'One of them said they would kill me and leave me where I fell if I did not stop struggling. I think I was only taken because I was with you.'

'I really have no idea what they want.'

'I wonder where d'Artagnan is?'

MMMM

The creak of a foot on the stair caused d'Artagnan's mind to run awash with different thoughts. Could he take on whoever was coming? Could he get the door open in time and then have help from his friends? What shape were they in? Could he get back out of the window before he was seen?

If he was seen but managed to escape Porthos and Aramis might be moved elsewhere or worse. He must not be seen, that was more important than anything. Another creak on the stairs focused him, he looked about. The other door. He reached for its handle and threw up a silent prayer that the door was not locked. His prayer was answered. And the hinges on the door were silent. As he opened the door he realised it was nothing but a small empty cupboard. It would do for now. He could hide in the tiny room until the danger had passed. He slipped in. Unseen.

As he silently closed the door behind him he could hear someone finally descending the stairs.

'I want someone here all the time. They cannot get out but he may want to talk…after a bit of persuasion,' d'Artagnan could hear a smirk behind the menacing voice, 'but I doubt he will talk straight away. You and Paul can take turns. But there must always be someone here until I tell you otherwise.'

D'Artagnan wanted to curse out loud. What had he done? He was now as much a prisoner as Porthos and Aramis. He could not risk leaving the confines of his own little cell. He would be seen. He was stuck there.

MMMM

D'Artagnan cursed under his breath for what must have been the hundredth time. He was stuck in the cupboard. He could not help his friends and no one knew where they were. He had managed to crouch down and peer through the keyhole of the door. He could see a man sat by the door to the room that Porthos and Aramis were being held. The key to the lock tantalisingly close, hanging from a hook above the man's head.

He had heard a few muffled noises from the room but could not make out anything distinct. He was hopeful that they were not injured or incapacitated.

The night time darkness had given way to a bright dawn a while ago. D'Artagnan became aware that he was actually quite hungry now, the nights activities helping him work up an appetite. He was also thirsty. This was not helped as he had seen the man in the corridor taking long swigs from a wine bottle. D'Artagnan would just have to wait for a chance to escape, he knew he may not be able to get Porthos and Aramis out at the same time, but if he could get away unseen he could get help.

Someone was coming down the stairs. Four men appeared around the corner. The first three he recognised from the night before, the fourth was clearly a man of wealth. He was dressed well and had an air of aristocracy about him.

'Briand, I trust these men have been treated well?' said the fourth man.

One of the other men replied, 'As well as can be expected, Monsieur Ruiz, they fought back so we had to restrain them…you did say you would let me deal with their capture and the interrogation. Those were our terms.'

D'Artagnan recognised the man's voice as the one who had paid off the kidnappers and left the guard outside the room.

The wealthy man looked annoyed, 'Yes, but they are musketeers. It is unfortunate that you could not get Aramis on his own, two missing men will cause more interest from Treville. They will be searched for...now, shall we begin our questioning?'

Briand, who looked every inch a hired thug, snarled back at Ruiz, 'my methods of extracting the information will not go down well with you. You shouldn't have come here. I could've got the information and reported back to you.'

'I have told you, I expected you would have to…persuade…the information out of Aramis, but I do not expect you to leave either of them too badly hurt. And I have certainly not paid you to kill anyone.'

D'Artagnan did not like the sound of this, his friend's captors were at odds with each other. Briand clearly wanted to take a more physical approach to whatever they had planned. He wondered what information they thought Aramis had. He was not aware of his friend being party to anything that the rest of them were not.

Briand had taken the key from its hook and was unlocking the door and drawing back the bolts. He stood by the door and raising his voice said, 'stand back from the door or we will shoot you, I've no problem taking you out. There's enough of us out here that any attack on us will be pointless.'

One of the men who had descended the stairs with Briand and Ruiz raised a gun and stood by the doorway so that he would be in full view of Porthos and Aramis when the door was opened.

Briand and Ruiz entered the room with two of the other men. The man with the gun stayed by the open door. D'Artagnan would not be able to slip out with the gunman standing in the corridor.

He could hear muffled voices coming from the room, he recognised Aramis speaking. At one-point Aramis raised his voice and sounded agitated. There were also a few sounds that could only have been punches being landed. He could make out the sound of Ruiz at one point, he sounded displeased.

A few minutes later the men left the room, locking and bolting the door again. The key being put back on its hook.

'Was that entirely necessary?' asked Ruiz, he looked quite pale, his voice trembled as he spoke.

'Do you want the information or not?'

'Yes, but you did not have to be so harsh, I am sure Aramis will talk…although I am surprised he has not told us what he knows already…'

'…he is a soldier, and so's the other one…he'll talk. You just have to accept that it will get dirty before you get what you want…that's what you paid me for.'

'Yes,' said Ruiz as he walked away and up the stairs.

Briand turned to the man with the gun, 'Paul, take over from Jean, remember if he wants to speak to us, come and get me. He won't be ready yet, it will probably take another go. But he will tell us what we want to know.'

Briand walked away with Jean and the other man. Paul took up the spot vacated by Jean. D'Artagnan quietly settled down to wait. He could only guess at what had gone on in the room behind the locked door.

MMMM


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

They had been in the room for some time now, Aramis' arms and shoulders hurt from the pressure of being pinned behind him. Porthos had prowled around their prison a little, until Aramis had told him to sit down.

Aramis was trying to work out why they had been taken, and why they were now being treated differently. They had concluded that the kidnappers were more interested in him than Porthos but he did not know why. Aramis was worried that they would use Porthos against him. It was a classic ploy for extracting information. Porthos knew it to, and had told Aramis not to give in if they did use him. But, as Aramis had no idea what the men wanted he could not give in even if he wanted to. All he could do was try to get the men to understand that they did not have any information to give. Would it be that easy?

The sound of people outside their room brought them both to full alertness. Aramis stood up, nudging the table away a little so that he could stand up straight and face their captors. The key was turned and the bolts drawn back as a warning was given through the door for them to stay back.

Porthos stood back from the door as ordered, moving to stand by Aramis. The door swung open and four men entered, whilst a fifth stayed by the door, a gun levelled in their direction, clearly aimed at Aramis.

Two of the men advanced towards them, Porthos tensed up, ready to fight.

'Don't resist or we will shoot your friend, it's quite simple really…' said one of the other two men.

Aramis watched as Porthos allowed himself to be grabbed by the two men and pulled over to the right. He was pushed against the wall and held there. The man who had spoken walked over to Porthos and grabbed his right wrist pulling it up, with minimal resistance from Porthos. He grabbed a manacle that was chained to the wall and caught Porthos wrist in it. They had seen these manacles earlier and had not wanted to contemplate their purpose. Porthos' left arm was similarly chained. Now restrained the two men holding Porthos let him go, but remained close by.

The fourth man who had entered the room took a couple of steps forward. He was dressed well and looked out of place next to the other thuggish men.

He addressed Aramis, 'I know you are Aramis of the Kings Musketeers, I know you have information about the shipment to Dordogne, I want that information. Give it to me now and that will be the end of the matter.'

Aramis had no idea what the man was going on about. He glanced at Porthos who looked just as confused.

'I'm sorry,' said Aramis, 'I don't know anything about any shipment.'

He knew, given their circumstances, this was not going to be believed. This man would not have gone to so much trouble if he did not have intelligence to suggest that he had the information. Aramis wondered how he had come to be connected with whatever it was the well-dressed man wanted.

The leader of the thugs looked quite pleased, Aramis shuddered inwardly, he knew what was coming next, as did Porthos, and there was nothing either of them could do about it.

The man to Porthos' left punched him hard in the stomach without warning, Porthos doubled over, as much as the chains would allow. He huffed as he tried to catch his breath. Aramis pulled forward as much as his own restraints would allow.

The well-dressed man took a step back, clearly uncomfortable with the assault on Porthos. At a nod from his leader the man punched Porthos again. Porthos was ready for it this time and did not react as much.

'Briand, I still do not think this is necessary…' said the well-dressed man.

Briand clearly did not agree as he encouraged the other man to hit Porthos again.

Aramis raised his voice, saying to the well-dressed man, 'I don't have the information you want…'

The well-dressed man did not look at Aramis, he looked away. Aramis tried pulling forward again towards Porthos, but the manacles on his wrists merely bit into his skin further, Aramis did not notice, only stopping his attempt at escape when he realised it was useless.

MMMM

The punches were hard against his stomach and side, the first one had taken him by surprise. He knew he would be assaulted but had expected the well-dressed man to spend a bit longer asking Aramis questions.

When Aramis had realised that he did not have the information that the man wanted Porthos had seen real concern in his eyes. Even if Aramis had wanted to answer the man's question he could not. They had been interrogated before, been in similar situations as this, but on those occasions, they were withholding the intelligence that was sought. This was different. Their captors had the wrong man.

Aramis had told them several times now that he did not have the answers that they wanted. But Briand had continued to allow Porthos to be hit. Porthos was aware of Aramis trying to pull free of his restraint. Porthos wished Aramis would stop, all he would achieve would be further strain on his wrists and arms. They had to endure the interrogation. Porthos could tell Briand would stop soon, he would leave them for a bit and then return and start again.

Briand held up his hand, the punches stopped. Porthos was just about able to remain standing. The men either side of him reached up and undid the manacles, they grabbed him and shoved him forwards, the man to his left tripping him as they did so. Porthos fell heavily to the floor, he stayed where he landed, eyes closed, trying to catch his breath.

He was aware of Briand walking up to Aramis who pulled towards him, angry. Briand pushed Aramis hard into the wall. Briand nodded towards the table and the chair, the two thugs went about removing the items from the room.

'Have a think about the question. We'll be back later,' said Briand to Aramis before shoving him against the wall again. Aramis again struggled against his bonds, but Briand merely laughed at him.

The well-dressed man walked from the room followed by the two thugs and finally Briand. The door closed firmly, the lock turned and the bolts drawn across.

MMMM

As the sound of the door being locked again faded Aramis was already concentrating on the prone form of Porthos. He was concerned that the big man had not moved since falling to the floor. But Aramis was frustrated in his efforts to help. His arms and shoulders complaining each time he moved forward.

'Porthos?'

'I'm OK.'

Aramis was surprised at the muffled response, he had feared that Porthos was unconscious. The beating he had received had not been too sever but he may have knocked himself out when he fell.

'You'll have to do better than that,' said Aramis feeling helpless as his friend remained lying on the floor.

'Give me a second to catch my breath,' snapped Porthos.

Aramis was taken aback, he paused for a few seconds, then said, 'Porthos, I really don't know what they want,' thinking his friend was angry with him for withholding information from their captors.

Porthos finally opened his eyes to look at Aramis, 'sorry,' he said, 'I know you don't know what this is about.'

Porthos looked at Aramis and smiled.

'What?' asked Aramis confused at his friend's reaction.

'You want to examine me, check how injured I am, this must really be annoying you, not being able to help me.'

Aramis lowered his head, the frustration showing as he sighed, but at least Porthos, who despite being injured, was taking delight in mocking him. The fact that he was making light of the situation was a good sign thought Aramis.

Aramis watched as Porthos pushed himself up off the ground using the wall to steady himself.

'I told you I'm fine, I can take a few punches without keeling over,' said the musketeer.

Porthos turned around and leaned against the wall. Aramis noted that Porthos was breathing normally now and did not seem too badly injured. He knew they would not come out of the next interrogation so easily.

He sighed, 'where have they got the idea that I know something about a shipment to Dordogne?'

Porthos shrugged his shoulders.

MMMM

When three musketeers failed to arrive at morning muster it was noticed. Particularly when they were three of Treville's best men. Athos had been summoned to Treville's room and now stood looking at his captain.

'Any idea?' asked the captain.

Athos shook his head. Although they often spent their leisure time together there were times when one or more of them would excuse themselves for assorted reasons. The previous evening Athos had not felt inclined to join his friends at the tavern for the simple reason that he was tired having not slept well the night before.

'I was not with them, I believe they went to one of the usual taverns in the city. I know no more than you,' he replied simply.

After their absence had been noted at muster Athos had checked each of his friend's rooms, none showed signs of disturbance or that they had been slept in.

'I have organised a small group of cadets to check the route they would have taken,' continued Athos, knowing his captain would approve, 'with your permission I shall join them.'

Treville nodded saying, 'keep me informed.'

Athos left Treville to begin his search hoping that the reason for his friends' disappearance was not a sinister one.

MMMM

They had both been trying to work out how this had happened. Neither could come up with an explanation. Porthos glanced up as Aramis shifted slightly to get more comfortable. The clink of the manacle keeping his friend in place caught his attention, the chain too short to allow Aramis to sit on the floor with him. Aramis' wrists were bruised and bleeding, the metal having cut the skin when Aramis had been struggling against his bonds earlier.

Porthos reached his hand up and gently touched Aramis' wrist causing the bound man to hiss in pain and try to move away, prevented by the very thing that was causing him harm.

'They need cleaning.'

'It's fine.'

'No, it's not,' said Porthos firmly as he hauled himself up.

Porthos moved the water jug closer to them and began looking around the room for something to use to clean his friend's wrists.

'We don't know if they will give us anymore water, we can't spare it,' said Aramis, understanding what Porthos intended to do.

'I'm still cleaning your wrists,' replied Porthos firmly, 'your sash will do.'

Without giving him a warning Porthos leaned forward and undid the blue sash Aramis wore and took it off him, Aramis rolled his eyes but did not stop him. Porthos ripped the fabric in to several pieces.

Porthos knelt next to Aramis and tried to clean his friend's wrists. The manacles made it impossible to do a proper job. Aramis hissed in pain.

'Stop pulling at it then.'

'Did you expect me to stand by passively whilst you were being beaten?'

Porthos looked at his friend, an apology in his expression, 'try not to strain it anymore.'

Aramis nodded. When Porthos had finished his ministrations, he leaned on the wall next to his friend. There was little to do but wait.

MMMM

They did not have to wait long, it was only a couple of hours before Briand and his thugs returned. Aramis had been forced to stand, now that the table had been removed from the room and Porthos could tell he was uncomfortable.

When the door was opened a gun was again aimed in their direction, Briand looked pointedly at Porthos who glared back, but walked over to the wall, not wanting to be man handled by the thugs. They chained him up again.

Ruiz had walked up to Aramis.

'The shipment to Dordogne? All the information you have…I do not want to be responsible for your comrade being hurt again. But if you do not tell me what you know…'

As Ruiz trailed off he glanced over at Briand who nodded, he stepped out of the room for a second and returned holding a wooden rod. He slapped the hard-wood against his palm a few times as he advanced on Porthos. Porthos did his best to remain stoic, despite being very concerned that this was really going to hurt.

Aramis was speaking to Ruiz.

'Please, I do not know anything about any shipment, you must have the wrong man. What makes you think I know anything about a shipment to Dordogne?'

As Aramis spoke he kept glancing over at Porthos and Briand. Porthos could see that he was already pulling at his bound wrists, the raw skin starting to bleed again.

Briand reached up with the rod of wood and pushed the end of it into Porthos' stomach pressing against the bruised areas, Porthos could not help but gasp as his abused body was prodded.

'I. DON'T. KNOW. ANYTHING!'

This time Briand drew back his arm slightly and hit Porthos across the ribs. The strike was not hard enough to break anything but it was hard enough to knock the air from him. He had to use the wall to brace himself.

'My intelligence is good, you have been briefed about the Dordogne shipment, tell me what you know.'

'Please, sir,' Aramis was trying to be respectful to win favour, Porthos did not think it would work, 'I would tell you if I knew something.'

The wooden rod was held up by Briand and swung hard and low, hitting Porthos' left shin. He howled in pain. He could not help his reaction. The pain immediate and immense. He did not think anything was broken but it still hurt, he could not help sagging and letting his wrists take his weight. He was aware of Aramis shouting and cursing at the other men.

Porthos screwed his eyes shut and concentrated on his breathing. He tried to listen to the conversations going on around him, but it was all becoming a haze. Aramis sounded desperate in his attempts to convince the men that he could not answer their questions.

MMMM


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

D'Artagnan had watched the men return. His limited view through the keyhole meaning he could not make out everything, but he had seen the wooden rod being retrieved by Briand. This was followed by the sound of Aramis shouting again and Porthos crying out in pain.

He wanted to rush out and help, he had to keep telling himself that hiding was the best and only option for him. If he were to be caught as well, it would give the thugs another person to use as a tool to get Aramis to talk and it would mean nobody would know where they were. He had to remain where he was.

The men left the room again, the two thugs had carried a table and chair out with them. Briand was still holding the wooden rod.

'Why won't he talk?' asked Ruiz.

Briand scowled and said, 'as I said before, he's a soldier, they're trained not to.'

'I disagree, I get the impression he does not know about the shipment.'

'We'll give it another go in a few hours' time, let them stew a bit.'

'I still do not like your methods, you should have unchained them both.'

'I undid one of the manacles, so that your precious Aramis can reach his injured friend. I am not having them both untethered,' said Briand, anger in his voice as he stalked away and up the stairs. Ruiz followed muttering as he did so.

One of the thugs remained on duty outside the door. D'Artagnan sat back down. He wondered how much longer he would have to wait to make a move.

MMMM

When Briand had hit Porthos with the rod Aramis had shouted at the man and had pulled at his restraints not caring about the damage he was doing. Porthos was now hanging limply against the wall his full weight being taken by his arms.

Aramis yelled at Ruiz, all attempts at civility gone, 'I don't know what you want to know. Why can't you just accept that.'

Ruiz took a step back. Briand walked up to Aramis quickly and used the wooden rod to press across his chest forcing him back against the wall. Aramis struggled against the sudden assault. The rod was pushed firmly against him, his already aching shoulders and arms screaming in protest as he was forced into an even more uncomfortable position.

Ruiz stepped forward again and put his hand on Briand's shoulder pulling the man away saying, 'leave it, I need you to take this man's restraints off, he is more likely to comply with my questions if he can properly look after his friend before our next session.'

Briand looked at Ruiz, then back at Aramis who was breathing fast and glaring back. Aramis could almost see the thought process going through the man's mind.

Briand looked across to the men with Porthos, he nodded at them. They unchained the injured man and dragged him across the room dropping him by Aramis.

Briand stepped forward and said firmly, 'if you move I will kill him.'

Aramis nodded, unsure what Briand was going to do. He had seen the gunman at the door level his weapon at the inert form of Porthos.

Briand pushed Aramis to the side and reached behind him, one manacle was released. Aramis stayed still not wishing to annoy Briand further. He watched as the men filed out of the room, as the door closed he knelt down and reached out to Porthos. It was awkward, his left wrist was still trapped, meaning, although he now had some room to move, it was limited.

He was frustrated when he could not quite reach his friend.

MMMM

Porthos had not quite passed out, but it had been pretty close. He had felt himself drifting off, but had made an effort to stay awake. He was aware that he had been unchained, and dragged a few feet and unceremoniously dropped on the ground. His leg was throbbing and his ribs hurt, it was uncomfortable to breathe. He took shallow breathes and concentrated on calming himself down.

He pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, his breath catching as he did so. Aramis was reaching out, trying to steady him, not quite within range. Porthos realised that his friend had been granted a little freedom from his restraints. He managed a smile.

'He unchained you…well sort of,' he said.

'Come closer so I can check you over,' said Aramis obviously concerned.

Porthos winced as he shuffled over towards Aramis, who helped him, as best he could, to turn around and sit down leaning against the wall. Porthos allowed Aramis to feel his chest and tried not to react when the probing hand found the bruised areas.

'Is anything broken?'

'No.'

'What about the leg? You took quite a blow.'

'Not broken, just bruised,' replied Porthos, moving his foot and leg to prove his point.

Satisfied Aramis stopped his examination and twisted round. Porthos watched as Aramis tried to reach the water jug. Finding it just out of reach his shoulders visibly sagged. Porthos felt sorry for his frustrated friend who appeared quite defeated by the situation they had found themselves.

Aramis turned back and looked at Porthos apologetically saying, 'I'm sorry, if you want the water you will have to get it yourself.'

Porthos put his hand on Aramis' shoulder to offer reassurance as he scrambled up. He limped over to the water jug on the other side of Aramis and sat back down again. He poured water into the cup and after taking a few sips handed the cup to Aramis.

He noted the state of Aramis wrists, the left one which was still manacled was bleeding quite badly. He reached over and grabbed some of the ripped fabric that he had used earlier. After manoeuvring himself onto his knees he wrapped the makeshift bandage around Aramis' left wrist. It probably would not help as he knew Aramis was likely to continue to pull at the restraint.

It bothered Porthos that Aramis did not resist his aid. He had remained sat impassively gazing ahead.

'Don't blame yourself for this,' Porthos said, 'they won't listen to you, there's nothing you can do.'

'I know,' said Aramis quietly.

Again, they waited for the next visit from their captors.

MMMM

It was late in the evening when Briand and his thugs returned. Both musketeers were starting to feel the hours of captivity. The water had been finished and both were hungry. They knew they could last some time without food, but it would be detrimental if they were starved for too long.

Porthos was feeling a bit stiff from his earlier beating. But he knew that worse was likely to come. It was more frustrating as they had no information to protect, they had no motivation to hold out and endure the interrogation. Aramis had been very quiet, no doubt feeling unnecessarily guilty for their predicament.

When they heard the approach of their captors they both stood, the clink of the chain keeping Aramis restrained a reminder to Porthos that there was no point in trying to escape. He could not overpower five men in such a confined space, particularly now that he had injuries. His only hope was that they could persuade their captors that they had the wrong man and that their captors would let them go. Porthos knew that the odds were very long on that occurring.

The same warning was given for Porthos to stand away from the door. He did so, standing by Aramis as the door swung open. The same man holding the gun pointing in their direction. Briand entered followed by the well-dressed man and the two thugs. The man with the gun gestured to Porthos to move over to the wall. Porthos did as he was told, he did not resist at the two thugs chained him up again.

He watched as Briand walked towards Aramis, keeping out of reach in case Aramis tried to grab him. Briand was smirking, 'I do hope you are enjoying your partial freedom, my employer,' he indicated the well-dressed man, 'Monsieur Ruiz here, does not like my methods of extracting information, so I have allowed you to have a little room to manoeuvre.'

Aramis did not say anything, merely looked at the man. Briand now turned his attention to Porthos, he walked over and stood in front of the manacled man, 'I apologise to you, but if your friend there, continues to refuse to co-operate, things are going to get a lot worse for you now.'

'He's already said he doesn't know anything, if he doesn't know anything 'ow can he tell you anything.'

Briand frowned, he looked about the room for a moment. He spotted what he was after and walked across and scooped up one of the gags that had been used on them the day before. He walked back to Porthos and forced the fabric into his mouth as the two thugs held him against the wall. Porthos did not struggle too much, preferring to keep his wits about him. The gag now tied in place Briand stood back. He looked around at Ruiz who had not spoken and was stood waiting by the door.

Ruiz took a couple of paces forward, towards Aramis. Porthos was amused that, despite the man's clear dislike of the way the musketeers were being treated, he was still wary of getting too close to Aramis who now had one arm free.

'Are you ready to talk yet?'

Aramis stared at the man for a few moments then said, 'I would tell you the information you want, if I knew it. But I do not.'

Aramis appeared broken. He had barely spoken during their wait instead he had sat and stared at the wall. Porthos had tried several times to talk to the marksman but had little success.

'You have been briefed about the shipment. I know you have, answer the question.'

'I don't know anything.'

'Do you want your friend to be hurt further?'

'No.'

'Then answer the question; what do you know about the shipment to Dordogne?'

The conversation continued for a few minutes. Ruiz asked a question or threatened harm to Porthos and Aramis replied continually that he did not know anything.

Aramis was getting quite exasperated with Ruiz. His answers becoming short or non-existent. Every so often his friend would glance over and Porthos would try to convey support. But it was becoming difficult, there did not seem to be a way out.

'I have given you ample chance to talk, I am afraid I will have to allow Briand to persuade you, again...'

Ruiz looked over to Briand who had returned to stand in front of Porthos. Porthos had noted the wooden rod in the man's hand. He knew what was coming. He tensed up.

He was vaguely aware of the man on his left stepping away, this was quickly followed by an explosion of pain in his left forearm. The wooden rod had been deployed. This time he was sure he had a broken bone. He was close to passing out, and would happily have embraced the darkness and release from the pain that coursed through his whole body but something was preventing him from leaving.

He was aware of Aramis urgently talking to Ruiz, pleading with the man to stop, saying over and over again that he did not know anything.

The thugs either side of him were undoing his manacles, they were holding him up, dragging him across the floor and dropping him next to Aramis who was by his side, his one free hand pulling at him, trying to get him closer, further from the thugs.

A brief moment of clarity allowed him to hear a few words exchanged between Ruiz, Briand and Aramis.

'My apologies…it is clear you are telling the truth…see to it that they are released…once we are away from Paris…I trust everything is in place to do that?'

'Unchain me, I need to see to his arm, please, I'm not interested in you, just let me help him…'

'You'll be released but we have to do something first, we can't have you following us.'

Porthos drifted off into the darkness.

MMMM


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

'I would tell you the information you want, if I knew it. But I do not.'

Aramis knew they did not believe him, but he had to try. He was starting to think they would kill Porthos before they believed him. His friend was already suffering from the assault, Aramis wanted them to stop before they really hurt him. The wooden rod being wielded by Briand could certainly do more damage than it already had.

When Briand employed the rod against Porthos' arm Aramis had shouted out and sworn at the men. He was pulling at his restraints despite Porthos' earlier pleas for him not to. He had reached out with his free hand trying to grab at Ruiz who, despite already being out of reach took a defensive step back.

'Please…I don't know anything…can't you see I would have told you by now.'

Ruiz was looking slightly green now, Aramis hoped that meant he would call a stop to the proceedings. Aramis watched in horror as Briand again raised the rod, he was about to swing it with force against Porthos' other arm.

'Enough.'

Briand looked round at Ruiz, he actually looked disappointed.

'Let him down, put him by Aramis.'

Aramis watched as Porthos was unchained and dragged over to him with no regard for his injuries. Porthos' limp body was dropped at Aramis' feet. He crouched down and tried to pull his injured friend closer to him.

'My apologies…it is clear you are telling the truth,' said Ruiz, who turned to Briand, 'see to it that they are released…once I am away from Paris…I trust everything is in place to do that?'

Aramis was not really paying attention, he was trying to manoeuvre Porthos into a more comfortable position.

'Untie me, I need to see to his arm, please, I'm not interested in you, just let me help him…'

Briand stepped forward, pushing Ruiz to the side, 'You'll be released, but we have to do something first, we can't have you following us.'

'I'm not going to follow you, he needs medical attention,' said Aramis still not looking up, he tugged at his chained hand, frustrated at not being able to tend to his friend properly, he would have been happy if the men just left them. But something in what Briand had said had Aramis thinking it would not be that simple.

One of the other men, entered the room, Aramis had not noticed him leave, he was holding a small bottle, a cloudy liquid within.

Ruiz stepped forward again and said, 'if you do as Briand says this will be a lot easier and you will be released in good time. Your friend will be fine in the meantime.'

Aramis had no idea what the man was trying to say, but he suspected it might have something to do with the cloudy liquid. At a nod from Briand the two thugs advanced on him, he stood up and readied himself to fight them off as best he could.

'We still have a gun trained on you, would you prefer a gunshot wound?' Briand said as he unscrewed the cap on the bottle.

Since Aramis did not know what was in the bottle he was not sure which he would prefer, he allowed himself to be grabbed by the men who held him firmly, his manacled hand being pulled painfully as they did so.

Ruiz was speaking again, 'it is just a drug to knock you out for a couple of hours…' Aramis noticed Brand smirk at that comment, 'when you wake up you will have been unchained and the door will be unlocked.'

Briand's expression implied to Aramis that this was not quite true. He began to struggle against the men who held him. They forced him against the wall where they held him firmly. Briand grabbed his head and tried to force his mouth open. Aramis resisted as much as he could. Briand was forced to pinch Aramis nose closed forcing him to open his mouth to take a breath. The liquid was poured into his mouth, he choked slightly, but Briand held his head firmly, his fingers digging in to his cheeks and neck as he kept Aramis from moving his jaw. Inevitably he swallowed the unknown drug. After a couple of minutes, the men let him go and stepped quickly away.

Aramis glared at Briand.

'Unchain me.'

'When you are unconscious.'

'I need to look after him,' said Aramis pointing at the very still form of Porthos.

'Well you have a few minutes before you pass out, make use of it, but I'm not unchaining you.'

With that Briand turned and ushered everyone out of the room saying to Ruiz as he went, 'I'll return shortly and carry out your wishes, they will be allowed to leave.'

The door was shut and locked again.

MMMM

'I'll return shortly and carry out your wishes, they will be allowed to leave,' said Briand to Ruiz as he left the ailing musketeers behind him.

He shut and locked the door, Ruiz looked at him puzzled, 'as I said, when Aramis is unconscious I will release him from his bonds and leave.'

He pocketed the key, and followed Ruiz up the stairs, his three men already awaiting them. Ruiz stopped at the top of the stair and reached for his money. Briand waited patiently as Ruiz payed off the three men who left quickly, not wanting to remain any longer than necessary.

Briand was annoyed that they had not got the information. Ruiz had promised that when they had extracted the information from Aramis there would be further work to be had. Work which would have earned him a lot of money. How Ruiz had messed up with his intelligence was unknown to him. They had a solid plan, the kidnapping had gone well. Getting a second man to use as leverage was a boon, despite what Ruiz thought.

Now he was left with nothing. Apart from two witnesses that would have to be dealt with. Ruiz would not have to know that he had no intention of releasing their captives. Once Ruiz left he would go straight back down and kill them both. He could not risk shooting the men, but Aramis would be unconscious by the time he went back down to their room, it would be no bother to slit his throat. The other one might even die from his injuries.

MMMM

D'Artagnan did not believe Briand in the slightest, of course he was not going to release Porthos and Aramis. All the men had gone upstairs, this would be his chance. He carefully opened the door and crept out. He looked at the hook on the wall, no key hung there. He tried the door, giving it a shove for good measure. There was no way he would be able to open it. He had to get back to the garrison and get help. He was feeling a little weary from his time stuck in the cupboard, he did not think he would be able to take on the five men on his own.

He had been shocked at the recent visit from the men to Porthos and Aramis. There had been shouts and screams. He was fairly sure Porthos had been badly hurt from the way Aramis had reacted.

He looked up at the window that he had entered through, he reached up and tried to open it. From this side and angle, he could not get the frame of the window to move.

D'Artagnan moved to the bottom of the stair and peered up. He could not hear any voices. He slowly made his way up, listening as he did so. He reached a point where he could see the hallway at the top of the stair. He could not see anyone. Perhaps they had all left the house? He doubted it. But he might be able to slip out unnoticed.

As he reached the hallway he paused, his hand resting on his sword hilt. Had he heard a creak to his right? He risked another pace forward.

Briand swept around a corner ready to engage d'Artagnan in a sword fight. D'Artagnan was ready for him, sword drawn in a second and raised to defend himself. Briand stepped forward thrusting his sword forward at the same time. D'Artagnan parried and made his own attempt at a thrust forward, Briand sidestepped and took advantage of d'Artagnan's forward moment to grab his arm and push him into the wall.

D'Artagnan reacted instinctively, he twisted away from the push and pulled his main gauche at the same time. Briand made several quick swipes with his sword. D'Artagnan deflected each with his sword or his main gauche. Each swipe of the sword had forced d'Artagnan to take several small steps back. He was now precariously placed at the top of the stairs.

Briand pressed his advantage and thrust forward again. D'Artagnan stumbled back, unable to gain his footing; he tumbled down the stairs, his sword clattering from his hand and laying out of reach of his final resting place. He was stunned for a few seconds, the world reeling, he tried to raise himself up but could not manage it, the assortment of pains he felt throughout his body all complaining at once.

He fell back and watched as Briand slowly, purposefully, walked down the stairs towards him.

MMMM

Aramis knelt next to Porthos gently pulling him over, Porthos groaned. Aramis managed to remove the gag, hoping his injured friend would be able to respond.

'Porthos?'

No response, he knew the big musketeer was not unconscious, but Aramis was unable to rouse him completely. Aramis felt along his left arm, Porthos' reaction confirming Aramis fear. The arm was broken. He could do nothing in his current state. He could not set the arm, he could not splint it. The best he could do would be to ensure Porthos did not move it too much.

Aramis could feel the effects of the unknown drug pulling at the edge of his mind already. Why had Briand smirked when Ruiz had said the drug would only leave him sleeping for a couple of hours? Would he even wake up? He had to hope that he would. His eyes were struggling to focus now. He had to think fast. He knew he would not be able to get himself free, he had to hope that he would be freed or that help would come.

He pulled Porthos fully onto his back, eliciting another groan from the pained man.

'Porthos, you need to keep your arm still…it's broken…keep still or you will make it worse…please listen to me…I'm not going to be here for much longer…keep your arm still…'

Aramis had no idea if Porthos could hear him or understand what he was saying. The drug was making it difficult to keep his eyes open now. He felt weak, he rearranged himself so that he was lying next to Porthos. His left wrist and arm were straining against the manacle, but it could not be helped. His hand was being held up by the ring on the wall, his arm was already feeling numb and he knew he was probably doing damage to the muscles in his arm and shoulder. But that was a small price to pay if he could save Porthos from coming to more harm.

He rested his right hand over Porthos' wrist, it was the only thing he could think to do. Porthos would be weak from the pain. Aramis hoped that the extra weight on his wrist would prevent him from moving his arm.

The drug had nearly done its job, the last thing Aramis was aware of was the door handle turning, someone was trying the door, pushing it. But the door was locked.

MMMM

Briand smirked, 'where did you come from? This is going to be a record, three musketeers killed in one day. I will be popular.'

Briand was stood over d'Artagnan who peered up at him. Briand slowly raised his sword and as he began to push it down to pierce d'Artagnan's chest he was stopped by the main gauche of his intended victim. D'Artagnan thrust the blade as hard and as deep as he could into the thug's gut, twisting it for good measure as he did so. Briand dropped the sword, which hit d'Artagnan on the side, slicing his doublet, but not causing him any further injury.

Briand staggered back a few paces and collapsed on the stair clutching at his bleeding gut. D'Artagnan watched, panting for a few moments, then came back to his senses. He struggled up and scrambled passed the dying man, he had to get back to the garrison. He knew he was in danger of passing out himself. He had banged his head on the way down the stairs.

He needed to make use of the surge of energy he was feeling after the fight. He needed to get back to the garrison in order to get help for Porthos and Aramis.

MMMM


	6. Chapter 6

Authors note: Thanks for all the reviews.

I have no medical knowledge, other than that which the tellybox tells me, therefore please accept any inaccuracies in the following as my own ignorance!

Chapter Six

Athos was sat at the table in the garrison yard. It was dark, but he had not moved for a couple of hours. A wine bottle sat empty by him. He was watching the garrison entrance. He was waiting, as he had been since early evening.

'We'll organise another search in the morning,' said Treville sitting opposite the brooding musketeer.

Athos nodded, he glanced at Treville, who also looked worried. When Porthos, Aramis and d'Artagnan had failed to appear for morning muster a brief search of their rooms had found that none of them had returned from the previous night.

For all three to be missing was unusual. One missing man might have had a simple explanation; too much to drink or an elicit assignation. But three missing musketeers was definitely a concern.

Athos had despatched a few men to find out where they had been. They had been able to trace the three missing men to the tavern Athos had believed them to be. They had been seen leaving, but then no further trace of them could be found.

Neither Treville or Athos were aware of any threat to the musketeers in general or any of the three men in particular.

As the day had progressed and no sign of them or any news had appeared the worry had infested most of the garrison.

Athos stood quickly as a figure stumbled into the garrison yard. D'Artagnan was easily recognised by both Athos and Treville. They rushed over to the young man, who appeared on the point of collapse.

MMMM

Athos grabbed d'Artagnan as he swayed. Treville stepped forward and helped the musketeer over to the table. They sat him down. Even in the dim light they could see he looked awful, he had a bruise forming on his temple and he appeared quite groggy. Athos poured him a cup of water, the young man was too uncoordinated to take the cup so had to be helped to drink.

As d'Artagnan pushed the cup away he said, 'you have to get to them…they're hurt…Porthos might be dead…'

Treville glanced at Athos, the other man sharing his own shocked expression. Treville knew that time was clearly of the essence something had happened to Porthos and Aramis and they needed help urgently.

He just had to hope they could get enough information from the clearly injured young musketeer before he passed out.

Athos was talking gently but urgently to d'Artagnan, 'where are they?'

D'Artagnan closed his eyes briefly and swayed, Athos firmly gripped his shoulders bringing the man back to his senses briefly.

'…taken in the alley by the tavern…just along the road…um…down the alley across the road…house with a blue door…cellar…the key,' stuttered d'Artagnan, 'the key…in the pocket…I killed him…'

D'Artagnan was struggling to remain conscious. Treville could tell he was trying to sort the information he knew he had to give, but the head injury was confusing him.

Treville looked up, several musketeers had approached and were waiting a few feet away. Treville beckoned a couple forward.

'Get him settled in the infirmary, check him for injuries…you,' he indicated another musketeer, 'find Lemay, bring him here.'

D'Artagnan was gently taken away to the infirmary as both Treville, Athos, and several other musketeers left the garrison.

As they hurried through the streets Treville was trying to work out where they should go. They knew which tavern the three musketeers had visited the night before. That would be their starting point.

As they neared the tavern one of the other musketeers drew their attention to an alleyway.

'It's as good a place to start as any other,' said Athos as he walked into the alleyway.

'Look, here…Aramis' hat,' said one of the musketeers who was slightly ahead of the others.

They followed the alleyway along. Soon reaching the next main road. The house with the blue door stood opposite them. Throwing up a silent prayer of thanks to d'Artagnan, Treville walked up to the front door. He did not knock, he pushed it open and entered, followed by Athos and several musketeers.

MMMM

The house was empty. They made their way through the hall toward a flight of stairs that lead downwards. Athos paused at the top noticing a man lying prone on the steps at the bottom. He descended the steps and stopped by the body. The man was clearly dead. Dead at d'Artagnan's hand by the looks of things. The young musketeer's main gauche was deeply embedded in the dead man's gut. D'Artagnan's sword was lying discarded a few feet away.

They rounded a corner and were presented with a small hallway with two doors, one stood open; a small cupboard. The other had two bolts and a lock. Athos tried the door, it was locked. He looked back at the body lying on the stair. He walked over and rifled through the man's pockets. He returned to the door with a key, it unlocked the door. He pushed it open. The sight that greeted him was not pleasant.

Both Porthos and Aramis were lying on the floor, neither man reacted to the door opening. They were still. Porthos was lying on his back, Aramis was beside him lying awkwardly, one arm manacled above him to a ring on the wall, his wrist bloody.

As they entered the room Athos noted the way Aramis was holding Porthos' left wrist with his free hand resting over it. The position could not have been a natural one for him to have ended up in. It looked deliberate.

Treville had crossed the room and knelt between the two men he reached out to separate them.

'Wait,' said Athos, 'I think Porthos might be injured, look at the way Aramis is holding him…'

Treville nodded and gently prised Aramis' fingers away from Porthos' arm. He felt the limb as softly as he could, eliciting a moan from the big musketeer.

'Broken,' concluded Treville. He lifted the injured limb and lay it across Porthos' chest. He began to check for any other obvious injuries.

Athos turned to the musketeers that had followed them down to the cellar, 'find a cart, we need to get them back to the garrison. One of you go back and warn Lemay that they are both unconscious and he has at least one broken limb to deal with.'

Athos turned back and crossed the room to Aramis, he called over his shoulder, 'find something to cut this off with,' he said indicating the manacle that was cruelly holding the unconscious musketeer prisoner.

Athos started checking Aramis for other injuries, much as Treville was doing with Porthos. He could not find anything from the cursory examination he could do in the current circumstances. Why was Aramis unconscious, he did not appear to have a head wound?

'What happened here?' he asked.

MMMM

Lemay looked up from his work as the door to his room was knocked. It was late, but he kept odd hours so was often awake well into the night.

'Come in,' he called out, the door opened and a breathless musketeer entered.

Before the man could speak Lemay was on his feet and busying himself collecting medical apparatus and items he knew he would need.

'Treville sent me,' said the musketeer, still panting from the run across to Lemay's rooms.

'What will I be dealing with?'

Lemay liked the musketeers, he held them all in great respect and was more than willing to assist when any of them were injured. He knew that most of their injuries were dealt with from within their own ranks, Aramis being a fine field medic. But occasionally they were presented with a medical emergency that required a bit more skill and knowledge than the resident medic had.

'It's d'Artagnan, Porthos and Aramis,' replied the musketeer, 'd'Aartagnan appears to have a concussion. We don't know about the others yet. Treville has gone to get them, they will be brought back to the garrison.'

Lemay had finished collecting what he thought he would need, he indicated a bag, the musketeer grabbed it and led the way back to the garrison.

MMMM

As Treville entered the infirmary he was pleased to see that both Porthos and Aramis had been laid out on beds ready for Lemay. The court physician was walking across to the two inert men, having finished with d'Artagnan who was himself laid out on a bed. Despite the bruising to his body the young man looked as if he were sleeping peacefully.

'He is concussed and dehydrated,' said Lemay before Treville could speak, 'he is covered in bruises, I think he may have fallen, he doesn't appear to have been injured by human hand.'

Lemay looked at Porthos and Aramis saying, 'strip them off, we need to know what their injuries are, be careful, particularly of Porthos' arm. Cut the clothes off if needs be.'

Athos stepped forward, 'try not to cut their jackets, I doubt they would be very forgiving,' he said to the musketeers who were assisting Lemay, 'if you must cut them, cut along the seams.'

Once stripped down to their braise Lemay checked them both over. Porthos was a sorry sight, he had multiple bruises across his torso, a nasty bruise on his shin and the broken arm that they already knew about.

The only visible thing they could see wrong with Aramis were the bleeding wrists from the manacles and some bruising, particularly on his face and neck.

Lemay stood back, puzzled, 'I cannot tell why Aramis is unconscious, he has no head wound or significant trauma to his body…Porthos has clear injuries, his unconscious state is a result of the pain.'

'Has d'Artagnan woken up yet, he may know what happened?' asked Athos.

'No, we will just have to wait.'

Lemay began his work, cleaning and dressing the wounds. Treville dismissed the other musketeers as he and Athos stepped out of the infirmary to allow Lemay room to work.

A few minutes later a loud crash and a cry of alarm from Lemay had both men rushing back in.

MMMM


	7. Chapter 7

Authors note: Again, thanks for the reviews. And I still don't know nothing about medicine!

Chapter Seven

Lemay preferred to work alone, he was glad when Treville dismissed the other musketeers. Their help had been appreciated initially, but when it came to the medical side of things it was easier for him to just get on with it. If he were to work with someone it was preferable they were calm and did not have a problem taking instruction.

He was still puzzling over Aramis. There really did not seem to be any reason for his continued unconsciousness. After the others had left he had rechecked the silent marksman. His wrists had bled, and some of the cuts were quite deep. The wounds were relatively clean. He was content to leave Aramis whilst he dealt with the more obviously injured Porthos.

Lemay began with Porthos' arm, he manipulated the arm slightly to align the broken bone. The man was lucky only one of the bones in his forearm had broken and it seemed to be a clean break. It would take a while, but it would mend well. Setting the bone straight did bring forth a moan of pain but the man did not wake up.

There was movement behind him, he turned, expecting to see d'Artagnan waking up, instead he was met with a confused looking Aramis standing right in front of him. Confused and angry, or scared, it was difficult to tell. But Lemay did not get much of chance to contemplate the musketeer's emotion as he was flung against the wall with a lot of force. Aramis grabbed him by the front of his shirt and hauled him up pinning him to the wall.

Aramis eyes were glazed. Lemay realised the man was not doing this consciously. He had no idea what he was doing. Despite this, Lemay still needed to get away from the raging, confused man.

He was no fighter, and knew he stood no chance against a trained soldier, particularly one who appeared to be acting on some primal instinct.

He managed to kick over the table that held his medical equipment, the metal items crashed to the floor. This distracted Aramis for a second, Lemay tried to struggle free. Aramis changed the position of his hands to around Lemay's neck.

Before Aramis had time to start throttling Lemay, the physician yelled for help.

MMMM

Treville entered the room after Athos, who was already reaching for Aramis. They had only needed a second to assess the situation. For some reason Aramis appeared to be trying to kill Lemay. The doctor was pinned to the wall, Aramis' hands were around his neck.

Athos had grabbed Aramis and was trying to pull him off. The marksman released one hand from Lemay and pushed Athos away. Athos stumbled back a few steps, falling to the floor, obviously surprised at the strength that his friend suddenly had.

The brief respite from being strangled meant Lemay had time to breathlessly say, 'he's drugged, he doesn't know what he's doing…'

Aramis returned to his murderous task. Treville wasted no time in stepping forward he reached out to Aramis bleeding wrist and grabbed it hard, and squeezed. He knew this would injure the man further but he also hoped it would distract him long enough to let Lemay go. The physician was starting to turn blue from the continued assault.

Athos was back with them, he grabbed Aramis from the other side. Treville's plan worked as Aramis let go of Lemay who crumpled to the floor, breathing hard and clutching at his throat.

Aramis struggled against them but Treville continued squeezing the already injured wrist, gradually the fight went out of Aramis who seemed to just wilt between the two of them. They manoeuvred him back onto the bed.

'Get some straps and tie him down. We don't know how long the drug will take to leave his system,' said Treville.

Athos nodded and moved away, whilst Treville held Aramis down. He was still struggling weakly, Treville was more concerned that he may hurt himself now. Aramis was mumbling incoherently, his eyes unfocused and confused. Athos returned with several weapon belts which they used to secure the drugged man's wrists and ankles to the frame of the bed.

Lemay had recovered enough to return to their side, 'try not to damage his wrists any further,' he said hoarsely. He was feeling the wrist that Treville had grabbed, bruising already obvious.

'Sorry,' said Treville, 'I couldn't think what else to do.'

'It worked, for which I am grateful,' replied Lemay.

'How long will he be like this?' asked Athos, watching his clearly confused friend pull at the straps holding him down.

'I don't know,' said Lemay, 'without knowing what he has been drugged with I cannot treat him. Anything I give him may make it worse, we will just have to hope it does not affect him adversely any further. With luck, it will just wear off.'

They watched as Aramis gradually calmed down and either passed out or fell asleep, exhausted from his recent exertions.

Treville turned to Lemay, 'are you OK?' he asked looking at the red marks on the physician's neck.

'I don't think he did any permanent damage…' Lemay paused then said, 'I think I would prefer there to be someone in here from now on. Someone he knows, who can try and talk to him if he comes around again and is still suffering from the effects of being drugged.'

Treville nodded, 'we can take it in turns,' he said indicating himself and Athos.

Lemay went back to his work on Porthos, although obviously shaken, he appeared committed to helping the injured musketeers.

Athos turned to Treville, 'Aramis said something about them wanting to know about a shipment…and something about Dordogne…does that mean anything to you?'

Treville did know what it meant, 'I dispatched four men to accompany a shipment yesterday, but only they were briefed about it…I don't understand why Aramis was talking about it.'

Athos settled in a chair by Aramis' side and wondered again, what had happened.

MMMM

D'Artagnan woke with a start, he sat up and instantly regretted it. He groaned as the various bruises he had received falling down the stairs made themselves known. As the memories of his recent misadventure came back to him he realised he was sitting on a bed in the garrison infirmary. He looked across the room and saw Athos looking at him.

'Welcome back.'

Athos rose from where he was and crossed the room to d'Artagnan who had swung his legs off the bed and was sat assessing if he could chance standing up or not. He felt a bit dizzy, but did not feel like he would pass out.

'You are concussed, stay there for now,' commanded Athos as he reached the young musketeers side. He picked up a cup of water, handing it to him.

D'Artagnan took it gratefully, his throat was parched and he remembered how thirsty he had been in his little prison for all those hours. Once he had drunk his fill he looked across the room. He was heartened to see both Porthos and Aramis being tended to by Lemay. The straps on Aramis' wrists and ankles drew his attention.

Before he could ask Athos filled him in, 'we think Aramis was drugged, he attacked Lemay a little while ago, we had to tie him down in case it happened again…we hoped you might be able to tell us what happened…you were not very coherent when you returned to the garrison last night.'

'I don't know anything about Aramis being drugged…I'm not really sure what went on…I was trapped in a cupboard…'

Athos looked at d'Artagnan, clearly not expecting to hear that. D'Artagnan related all that he had heard from his unexpected prison and how he had finally been able to escape but had to face Briand and nearly did not make it out alive.

Athos listened intently until d'Artagnan had finished. He paused contemplating the information before finally saying, 'without your actions I doubt any of you would have made it out of there. It is quite clear this Briand was intent on killing Porthos and Aramis and would have killed you too.'

'Do you have any idea about this shipment?' asked d'Artagnan.

'Treville thinks he may have worked out how Aramis' name has become linked to this information, he has gone to the Palace to check on something, I doubt he will be long.'

'How is Porthos? It sounded like they were giving him quite a beating.'

'He has a lot of bruising, he must have been beaten with a stick or something as well as punched multiple times. And he has a broken arm, although Lemay says it is a clean break and will heal well. He hasn't regained consciousness yet.'

They both looked over as Aramis stirred. Athos hurried over to the side of the bed. Despite being told to stay where he was d'Artagnan followed.

Wild unfocused eyes met theirs. Aramis looked very confused, he tugged at his restraints and tried to sit up. Athos firmly pushed him down, but d'Artagnan could tell that he struggled to keep the thrashing man still.

Aramis turned his head and seemed to focus on Porthos, who was lying to his right. Aramis did all he could to reach the unconscious musketeer. He started shouting, most of it incoherent but they could pick out the words 'Porthos,' 'I don't know,' 'he needs help,' and 'unchain me'.

'Aramis!' said Athos firmly.

Aramis did not respond, he kept trying to reach Porthos.

'Aramis, you are safe, Porthos is safe, calm down.'

It did not help, d'Artagnan felt helpless as Athos continued to speak to Aramis who did not seem to know he was there.

Lemay watched from the other side of Porthos' bed where he had been working, d'Artagnan noticed the angry bruising around the physician's neck. He did not like to think about what had happened earlier.

Aramis gradually calmed down and passed out again. D'Artagnan stepped forward and helped Athos to straighten up the drugged man who had managed to twist himself and his blankets into a confused heap.

Lemay said, 'I don't think that was as intense as the first time, hopefully the drug is wearing off. Do his wrists need redressing?'

D'Artagnan noticed the bandages that encircled each of Aramis' wrists. The left one was bleeding.

'I can do it,' he said.

Lemay nodded. Athos picked up the chair by the bed that had been knocked over as they dealt with Aramis. He indicated for d'Artagnan to sit as he gathered fresh bandages and water. He laid the items down on a table next to d'Artagnan and allowed the young man to help his friend.

The door to the infirmary opened, Treville was back. He did not look happy.

MMMM


	8. Chapter 8

Authors note: Last chapter. I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for all the review.

Chapter Eight

'Any change?' asked Treville as he walked in. He nodded a greeting to d'Artagnan, who was busy tending to Aramis' wrist.

The young musketeer looked pale but alert as he worked on his friends wound.

'Aramis woke again, but he is still being affected by the drug…did you find what you wanted at the Palace?' asked Athos.

'Yes,' he glanced at Lemay who was watching d'Artagnan work.

The physician noticed Treville looking at him, sensing what was required he said, 'I need to get some more supplies, I will be about twenty minutes.'

'Thank you,' said Treville as he held the door open for the doctor, 'I will send for you if you are needed sooner.'

Once Lemay had left them Treville turned to Athos and d'Artagnan.

'There is a shipment of religious relics that was sent to Dordogne yesterday. The relics, I believe, are sought after by some religious fanatics. Supposedly peaceful, these men will raid churches and other places such items are known to be, and take them for their own. That's why the shipment was to be guarded by four musketeers,' he paused.

'Pierre, Luc, Simon and Jean went on assignment yesterday…no one else knew what they were doing,' said Athos.

'Originally,' continued Treville, 'I was going to include Aramis on the assignment as Luc was not back from his compassionate leave. I wrote their names down on the briefing notes I had with me at the palace. I only took Aramis out of the equation a few hours before he and Porthos were attacked. I can only imagine that someone at the Palace read the paperwork when I left it unattended…I was distracted by the King…'

Athos guessed the rest, 'who ever read the paperwork saw the names of the musketeers who were to accompany the shipment, Aramis was probably the most well-known of the four so he became the easiest target…but you changed him with Luc, so Aramis did not receive the briefing…'

'And couldn't answer any of the questions that Ruiz had,' d'Artagnan said as he finished bandaging Aramis' wrist.

'Ruiz?' asked Treville.

'That was the name of the wealthy man, I think he hired the rest of the people to kidnap Aramis and interrogate him. But when he realised Aramis couldn't tell them anything he wanted to let them go. It was Briand, the hired man, who was intent on killing them.'

'I don't know the name,' said Treville, 'I wonder if he is one of the fanatics. We will have to follow this up. I have already despatched four more musketeers to catch up with the shipment. Although I doubt there will be any problems, they didn't get the information they needed after all.'

Treville looked at Aramis and then over at Porthos. He felt responsible for their injuries.

'It is not your fault…it is unfortunate,' said Athos.

Treville nodded, he was furious that there was an informant at the Palace. He was determined to seek out who had passed on the information. He also wanted to locate Ruiz and being him to justice for what he had done.

They all looked over as Porthos stirred.

MMMM

Porthos was aware of someone next to him gently touching his shoulder. He opened his eyes. Athos was looking at him with concern. Porthos tried to move, to sit up.

'Careful, you're injured,' said Athos as he helped the musketeer to sit up a little.

Porthos groaned as he was helped up, Athos rearranging a pillow behind him. He looked across at Aramis who was lying, very still, on the bed next to him. He was shocked to see his friend restrained.

'What happened?' he asked indicating the unconscious marksman.

'Don't you know?' asked d'Artagnan.

'The last I remember was Briand hitting me,' he looked down at his arm, 'I guess it's broken?'

'Yes, Lemay says it is a clean break. Aramis was able to arrange your arm in such a way that it didn't get damaged any further…he was holding your arm down when we found you.'

Porthos thought for a moment, vague memories of being told not to move floated into his mind. He looked at Aramis again.

'We think he's been drugged,' supplied Treville, 'he attacked Lemay, we had to restrain him in case he tried again.'

'He woke up again a while ago, still under the influence of whatever they gave him,' said d'Artagnan.

Porthos listened as he was filled in on what he had missed, including d'Artagnan's stay in the cupboard next to their own prison. It amused Porthos that d'Artagnan was so close to them but could do nothing to help them. He was impressed with d'Artagnan's description of his fight with Briand.

When Treville explained about the briefing notes that must have been seen he was angry, not with Treville, but with the thought that Aramis had been targeted for the information.

'Do you think we will be able to find Ruiz? Bring him to justice?'

'I hope so,' replied Treville, as he took his leave. He said he wanted to start looking into leads to find the man responsible for the assault on his musketeers.

Porthos was tired, but he did not really want to sleep, he was trying to put everything together in his mind, but the others were a distraction. Athos noticed his friends need to be alone.

'We won't go far, call us if he wakes up again,' said Athos, indicating Aramis as he ushered d'Artagnan out of the room.

Porthos looked over at his friend, who seemed quite peaceful. Porthos hoped that when he did wake up again, it would be a normal Aramis and not a drugged Aramis.

MMMM

Aramis slowly opened his eyes. He had, what could only be described as the worst headache ever. It felt as if he had drunk the tavern dry. He moved his hand to reach up and rub his aching head. Only to find his hand would only move a few inches.

Alarmed, he tried to move his other arm with the same result. He tried to sit up but could get no further than leaning back on his elbows. He looked down at himself. He had been stripped of his outer clothes and covered with a blanket. Both his wrists and ankles were strapped to the bed. He realised he was in the infirmary at the garrison, but had no idea how he had got here.

The restraints scared him, why was he tied down? He started to struggle and pull at the straps. He could feel himself panicking, his breathing was hard and fast. But he needed to get off the bed, get away from the restraints. He knew that being chained up was not good.

Chained?

He was not chained up, but that was what kept coming into his head. Flashes of pain in his wrists as he pulled at the straps kept his mind returning to the thought of being chained up. When had he been chained up? He felt as if he was going to pass out, but he needed to focus.

All he could think about were chains. Chains keeping him from something, or someone.

MMMM

Porthos was considering reaching out for the cup of water by his bed, he knew that in doing so, something would hurt. But he was thirsty and he should drink. He considered how he was probably going to be stuck in the infirmary for a bit, and then stuck on light duties until his arm had healed. He hated being injured and the tedium it brought, even guard duties was better than light duties. Particularly, as without the use of one arm, the duties would be very limited.

A movement to his left caught his attention. Aramis was waking up again, the description of his previous incoherent episodes from the others meant that he was about to call for help. But something told him this was different.

Although the marksman was tugging at his bonds, he seemed coordinated, the actions deliberate. Not the random acts of a drugged man.

'Aramis,' he said.

Aramis did not respond, he was breathing quickly and appeared to be panicking, pulling hard at his restraints.

'Aramis, look at me,' he said again, managing to sit up a little, despite the pain that coursed through his body at the action.

Aramis finally turned his head. His eyes conveyed fright and confusion. He clearly did not understand what had happened.

'It's OK. We're safe…you were drugged. They 'ad to restrain you…when you woke up the last couple of times you were…combative…they had to tie you down, to stop you hurting anyone else.'

Porthos instantly regretted saying that. Aramis looked shocked, he looked about himself, as if trying to find whoever it was that he had hurt.

'No, Aramis, look at me,' said Porthos, trying to sit up further, he needed to reassure the struggling man before he did himself any further damage.

'What did I do?' Aramis said quietly, his voice croaky from lack of use.

Porthos realised there was no point in lying or playing down what his friend had done.

'You attacked Lemay.'

Aramis' eyes widened further, his breathing was quite ragged. Porthos was worried he would pass out again.

'Aramis, calm down. Lemay is OK. Treville and Athos pulled you off 'im before you could do any damage.'

Aramis looked away, and seemed to be trying to calm his breathing. Porthos waited patiently for his friend to work through his obvious shock. When Aramis looked back again he appeared much calmer. Porthos noticed that he was looking at his various injuries.

'What happened? …How did you get injured? …How did I get drugged?'

It was Porthos' turn to be taken aback, 'what's the last thing you remember?'

Aramis thought for a moment, 'leaving the tavern with you, waiting for d'Artagnan…'

Porthos sighed, 'you have some catching up to do.'

MMMM

For the second time Lemay sat at Aramis side bandaging his wrists. The marksman had managed to reopen all the wounds when he awoke. Porthos had described him as pulling at the restraints when he came around due to his initial confusion. But, Porthos had assured them that for the few minutes that Aramis was awake, after he had worked out where he was, he had been calm and himself.

Porthos had managed to fill him in on the recent events before the marksman had fallen asleep again. They had decided to leave the restraints on him until he awake again, and, provided he was still acting sanely, they would remove the straps at that point.

Lemay realised that Aramis was awake as he finished with the wounded man's wrists. He was looking at him intently. Lemay smiled, hoping to reassure Aramis that all was well. Aramis was staring at the bruising on Lemay's neck.

'I'm sorry,' he finally said.

'You have nothing to be sorry about,' replied Lemay, 'none of us had any idea you had been drugged…and you did not know what you were doing, I think you thought I was hurting Porthos when you grabbed me.'

As a sign of his confidence in the musketeer he began undoing the straps. Aramis looked concerned.

'This is the second time you have been conscious and not been delirious, I am sure you are fine now,' said Lemay decisively.

Once the straps were removed he helped Aramis to sit up and gave him a cup of water, from which he drank gratefully.

'How do you feel?'

'I have a headache but nothing more, I don't remember anything from last night, Porthos told me what happened.'

'The memories may come back, I don't know, do you have any idea what they gave you?'

'No,' said Aramis, again taking in the marks on Lemay's neck.

'I'll tell Treville you are awake again. I want you to rest for at least the rest of today.'

Aramis nodded. Lemay smiled again at the musketeer and after a final cursory check of Porthos, who was dozing peacefully, he left the infirmary.

MMMM

Now that all the injured men were conscious and awake enough to pay attention Treville convened a meeting with them in the infirmary. He, Athos and d'Artagnan sat on chairs at the end of the beds of Porthos and Aramis.

'What I propose is this, we are the only ones who know the reason for Aramis and Porthos being kidnapped. As far as the rest of the musketeers are concerned this was an attack on the musketeers not a targeted attack on Aramis for information.'

He paused and took in his men who were all intently listening. It was clear that they all wanted to help find the informant.

'I have alluded to the King that there is a spy within the Palace, and that I am intent on finding them. The King has assured me that I have his full cooperation, he has also assured me that he will not say anything to anyone about this. We must work fast, it is possible that the spy will realise that they have given over useless intelligence and disappear. Therefore, I am sorry Porthos, but your help will be limited, we must begin working on finding the spy immediately.'

Porthos sighed, 'I understand, but I want to be kept up to date with all the developments, I will give whatever help I can.'

'I would expect nothing less…' said Treville, he turned to Aramis, 'tomorrow, when you have had a good night's sleep, and not before, I would like you and d'Artagnan to find out who Ruiz is.'

Both men nodded. D'Artagnan looked pleased with his assignment. Treville was not sure if it was the chance to do something, or the fact that their task would probably be quite sedate. He had noticed the young musketeer was wincing and had clearly started to stiffen up as his own injuries made themselves known.

Aramis had been quiet since waking, he was troubled by the events, which was understandable. Treville hoped that by involving him in the investigation he would prevent the marksman from dwelling on what had happened. From what Porthos had said, the time spent chained to the wall had taken its toll. Porthos had intimated that, had they been prisoners for much longer he would have been worried about Aramis' state of mind.

'Athos and I will begin our investigations at the Palace.'

His orders given he paused for a moment before saying, 'I want to apologies to you for allowing this to happen…'he raised a hand to stop Aramis from interrupting him, 'I know it was not intentional but I left the information available to be read.'

Aramis managed to speak before Treville could continue, 'from what Athos says, you were distracted by the King…who can be quite distracting…perhaps we should blame him?'

Aramis' attempt to lighten the situation pleased Treville, he hoped that Aramis would not be too adversely affected by the events of the last couple of days. But he would keep an eye on the musketeer none the less.

Treville smiled, 'it is a thought, but let's keep that to ourselves…now rest, tomorrow our work begins.'

The End.

Authors note: I have a sequel forming in my head. But it is not ready yet.


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